June 8, 2008—A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about people who hate their own pictures. (Check it out at Let’s Love.) I’ve been touched by the response, both by email and in person. The comments have gotten me thinking again.

What I’ve been thinking about is how I can like my own pictures better. The answer isn’t that I need better quality pictures. After all, I’m engaged to the best photographer in the world (not that he has time to take any pictures of me). It’s not the pictures. It’s what the “editor” in my head thinks of them.

In the last couple of days, I’ve made two decisions about my own pictures.

First, whenever I see a picture of myself, I’m going to find something positive to say about it. And I won’t cheat and use backhand compliments (“Well, that’s not the worst I’ve ever looked”). I mean real, substantial positive things: “Gee, my hair looks good.” “I like that color on me.” “My smile is pretty cute.” “I look happy.”

Second, to satisfy the editor in my head, I will indulge in one constructive criticism. I say “indulge” because that’s what I think it is. Self-criticism is an indulgence.

In a strange way, self-criticism is a kind of comfort. I think people often believe that if they can say or think the worst, then no one can beat them to it. Somehow, we seem to have the idea that it hurts less when we say it. Not so. I think it hurts a lot more, and a lot longer. When someone else says it (if they ever do), I have the luxury of getting angry to distract me from however much it hurts. But when the hurt comes from me, I have only the hurt.

So that’s an indulgence I have to monitor.

When I say “constructive criticism,” I mean things that I can fix right away. I don’t mean “Lose 100 pounds!” or “Stop looking so old!” I can’t fix those things immediately, if at all. I mean things like this (but just one at a time): “Gee, I’ll look better after I comb my hair,” or “That shirt will be great with the collar adjusted,” or “I’m going to stand up straight.”

I’m confident that those two simple things will help me settle down about my pictures, if only just a little bit.

And here’s one more thing to consider: Whenever I say something disparaging about one of my pictures, chances are that someone listening gets uncomfortable. I know that’s true, because I often feel that way when I hear a woman complain about her gigantic butt. I think, “Yeah, I’d like to have a butt that big.” For a size 12 woman to complain about something like that only makes someone like me, who hasn’t seen size 12 in years, feel bad about myself.

So “indulging” in those negative comments may also be hurting the people who hear me. It’s time to stop.

If you have any ideas on this topic, I’d be glad to hear from you. Please email me or visit the Paw Prints booth at an event.

Once again, this page celebrates some of the brave people who have chosen to buy pictures of themselves. Remember, “brave” doesn’t mean “ugly but brave.” It means just brave—willing to overlook whatever they dislike about themselves—willing to enjoy the memory—and generous enough to share it.

These images are from the recent Queen City Dog Training Club trial.